


i can see a lot of bright in you (and i think the dress looks nice on you)

by sugaplumvisions



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Agender Azumane Asahi, Agender Character, Gender Identity, Genderfluid Character, Genderfluid Sugawara Koushi, Little Black Dress, M/M, Multi, Other, Trans Azumane Asahi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 15:47:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21650683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugaplumvisions/pseuds/sugaplumvisions
Summary: Asahi hasn't felt like a boy for a while now. Suga and Daichi are there to support them.
Relationships: Azumane Asahi/Sawamura Daichi, Azumane Asahi/Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, Azumane Asahi/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 11
Kudos: 118





	i can see a lot of bright in you (and i think the dress looks nice on you)

Asahi shifts nervously in front of the mirror, raising themself up on their toes and admiring the way it makes their legs look.

“Wow,” they breathe out quietly as the too-small skirt swishes against their legs. There’s something terrifying and beautiful in this. They look at their face, and admire how even the stolen, smeared eyeliner turns them into something fae and wild and admittedly gorgeous.

They set an alarm for 20 minutes before Suga will be home from class to give them enough time to put the skirt back in Suga’s drawer and to wash off the makeup, and stand in front of the mirror for a while longer, practicing different ways to stand, to sit. This isn’t the first time they’ve stolen Suga’s makeup, but it’s the first time they’ve stolen their clothes. It feels more intimate, somehow, which shouldn’t scare them considering they’re their partner, and that Suga barely owns any jackets of their own because they spend so much time stealing Asahi’s and Daichi’s.

But it does. Because what if Suga saw them and figured they were just copying their gender, stealing it like their clothes, just wanting to be special? What if Suga saw the borrowed skirts as violation or, perhaps worse, mere emulation?

Asahi’s eyeliner smears further as they think of how Daichi might react and begin to tear up. They imagine the thin line of his mouth as he tells Asahi they’re a faker, that if they were really truly not exactly a boy--or a boy in some ways, just out of sheer habit, but not in most, but how do you explain that?--that they’d have realized in high school, or even earlier like Suga did, well on their way into their transition by the time they’d all met.

This was no time to realize who they were. This was the real world, not the hazy golden in-between of high school, where the vice-principal might side-eye you but the team didn’t care who you were so long as you could play.

They sit down in front of the mirror, scrubbing angrily at the smears of their eyeliner like they have a personal vendetta against it. In some ways they did; the eyeliner was just another symbol of how they felt like they never quite fit into anything, including gender. Daichi and Suga are their place to fit, but what if this, this fragile swelling feeling in their chest, ruins it all?

They don’t notice Suga’s early arrival until the bedroom door creaks open.  
“Asahi?” they call in.

Asahi panics. “I’m naked!” they call.

“And?” Suga says, as they creak the bathroom door open. “It’s not like I’ve never seen you in the buff.”

Asahi bursts into tears, smearing their eyeliner further.

“Okay,” Suga says, “ Something’s wrong. I’m coming in!”

“No, wait!”

Suga walks into the bathroom and freezes for a moment, looking Asahi up and down.

“I can explain,” Asahi says. “It’s just--”

“Asahi, sweetheart,” they breathe out, voice low and reverent. “You look beautiful.”

Asahi sniffles. “Really?” they ask.

“C’mere, baby,” Suga says. They take Asahi’s hand and pulls them into the bedroom, getting up on the bed and using the newfound height as leverage to push them down to kneel on the ground in front of the bed. Suga sits down on the bed and pulls Asahi’s head into their lap.

“You look so good,” Suga says, running their fingers through their hair. Asahi sniffles again, wiping their eyes on Suga’s skirt. Suga leans down and kisses the corner of Asahi’s eyes, which makes them start crying again.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Asahi says. “Aren’t you going to get mad at me?”

“For what?” Suga asks.

“I stole your skirt,” Asahi says. “And your eyeliner, and your eyeshadow, and your lipstick.”

Suga snorts and waves a sweater paw that only exists because they’re wearing Asahi’s oversized hoodie. “I steal your stuff constantly and you never get mad at me. I figured it was just part of being partners.”

“I look dumb,” Asahi says, all the wonder of their newfound beauty gone in the shock of Suga’s presence.

“You look beautiful,” Suga says. They lean down to kiss Asahi’s lips, and laughs. “You taste like vanilla.”

“It’s ‘cause you buy the good lipstick,” Asahi says.

“I’ll have to start getting it in your color.” Suga smiles down at them. “You really do look beautiful.”

“Are you sure? You don’t mind?”

“What’s there to mind?” Suga asks, cocking their head, clearly not understanding the question.

“That I’m copying you,” Asahi says.

Suga smiles, small and soft. “Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.”

“That I’m not your boyfriend,” Asahi says.

Suga cups their cheek with one hand, the other hand still running soothingly through their hair.

“You, whether you’re my girlfriend or my partner or anything else, are still mine, and that’s all that matters to me. That’s all that ever mattered to me.”

“Partner,” Asahi says, softly. “Not a girl. Not a boy either, quite exactly? Not like you; it’s not just sometimes not, it’s not ever. I don’t think I’m anything.”

“Asahi, did you really think I could hate you for something like that? After everything we’ve been through?”

“Do you even know me?” Asahi asks. “You should know to never underestimate how ready and willing I am to assume you hate me.”

“I do know you,” Suga says. “And you know me, and I need you to know that nothing you could do could make me hate you, and most definitely not being yourself.” They look fondly down at Asahi. “So. Should I still call you he around Daichi? Actually, should I still call you he, full-stop? I never asked about pronouns.”

Asahi shrugs.”They, I think.” They think for a moment then say, “I don’t want to hide anything from Daichi. If you’re sure he’s not going to get mad at me.”

“He could never,” Suga says. “Just like I could never. You know that.” They smile down at Asahi, their eyes taking on a familiar mischievous sparkle. “If we’re going to tell Daichi,” they say, “We should do it right.”

“What do you mean?” Asahi asks.

Suga grins. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to dress you up. I always thought you’d look beautiful but I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I’ve done a lot of thinking about what you’d look best in.”

“You…really?” Asahi says, not able to think of any better wording.

“I really,” Suga says.

They press one last kiss to Asahi’s cheek before swinging their legs over the edge of the bed from where they’d been sitting with legs criss-crossed.

“C’mere,” they say, grabbing Asahi’s hand and pulling them over to the dresser. “I know just what would look best on you.”

Asahi smiles for the first time since Suga came home.

“Okay,” they say, letting themself be pulled along.

Suga rummages through the dresser until they find the perfect dress. It’s one that Suga rarely wears, claiming they like something with a little more swish to it.

“Here,” Suga says, handing them the dress. “Try this.”

The fabric is a rich black and has spandex woven in, so it stretches easily to fit Asahi’s larger body. The dress is sleeveless, which they thank heaven for because they’re pretty sure that their shoulders are broad enough that anything that remotely fit Suga would only constrict them.

Asahi slips off their skirt and shirt in a rare moment without self-consciousness. There’s nothing awkward about changing in front of Suga, not after living together for months, dating for months more before that, and even before that, spending years sharing a locker room.

“You're going to look beautiful,” Suga says as they slip into the dress. “You always look beautiful.”

The dress stretches to fit perfectly. The slit that came up to Suga’s knee comes to Asahi’s mid-thigh, and the hem of the dress flutters around their mid-calf. Suga takes a step back, taking them in, and lets out a long wolf-whistle. Asahi blushes.

“You really don’t have to pretend all that,” Asahi says, tugging the top of the slit farther down their leg.

“Oh, I’m not pretending,” Suga says. “You really just look like a snack.” They grin at Asahi. “So. Do you mind if I do your makeup?"

“I’d like that,” Asahi says.

Suga pulls them into the bathroom and wipes their face clean with a makeup wipe. 

“Close your eyes for me?” Suga asks. 

Asahi feels the eyeshadow brush on their eyelids, moving in precise strokes. Suga blends with deft fingers, then uncaps the eyeliner and moves the brush across Asahi’s lash line with a practiced flick to create a wing. 

“Beautiful.” Suga says. 

Asahi can feel themself blush. “You don’t have to say that.” 

“I know I don’t.” They can hear the smile in Suga’s voice. “I’m saying it because it’s true.” 

Suga uncaps something else. “Now blink for me,” they say, holding the mascara brush up to Asahi’s eyelashes. Asahi blinks, and as they blink watch Suga’s smile break into a grin. 

“I wish I had your eyelashes, Suga says. 

“You really don’t have to—” 

“I _know,_ self-loathing beard. I mean it. Daichi’s going to pass out,” Suga says. “You look incredible.” 

They finish the look off with a nude lip, and Asahi obediently rubs their lips together to properly distribute it. 

“I really want to kiss you right now,” Suga says, voice husky, eyes fixated on their lips. 

“Then kiss me,” Asahi says, leaning forward. Their lips meet and Asahi sighs happily into the kiss. 

“You taste good,” Suga says as they pull back, giggling. Asahi chases them as they move, kissing the laughter off their lips. 

“I said this before,” Asahi says. “It’s ‘cause you buy the good lipstick.” 

“We’ll have to get more in your color palette,” Suga says. “This nude is cute, but you’d really look incredible with a dusty rose or—” They gasp. “I think me and Daichi might die if we ever saw you in red.” 

“You’d really buy me stuff?” Asahi says. 

“It’s your money too,” Suga says. “And you need to feel like you have control over things, I think, instead of just having to swipe my makeup. Not that you can’t do that, any time you want.” 

“I love you, Koushi.” Asahi kisses their cheek softly, and Suga giggles as they look at the lipstick mark in the mirror. 

“I love you too, Asahi—is Asahi still, I mean, do you want another name?” 

Asahi shakes their head. “Just Asahi.” 

“Got it.” Suga looks at Asahi and breaks into giggles again. 

“What? What’s so funny?” 

“I kissed off your lipstick,” Suga says. “Right after putting it on, too.” 

“It was worth it.” Asahi smiles. 

“Here, we better put it back on before Daichi gets home so _he_ can kiss it off.” 

Asahi puts a gentle hand on Suga’s shoulder. “You’re so good to me, you know that?” 

“I should hope so,” Suga says. “Now be quiet so I can put on your lipstick. Open your mouth a little again?” They swipe the lipstick over Asahi’s lips. “Good, good. Now rub together and smack? Holy crap, you look good.” 

"Can I look in the mirror now?” Asahi asks. 

“You’re all ready, gorgeous.” Suga claps their hands together happily. 

Asahi stands and turns towards the mirror. They freeze and gasp when they see the person reflected. 

They look, at the same time, sharp and soft, their smoky eye and the defined wing on their eyeliner adding an edginess to them, but the careful blending and white inner eye giving their eyes a huge, doe-like quality. The dress clings to all the right places, creating the illusion of hips. Their hair cascades down their shoulders, and their beard sets off the look, keeping it from becoming exclusively feminine. 

“Is that really me?” Asahi asks. 

“Yeah, beautiful. That’s really you.” Suga smiles and kisses their cheek. “You look incredible. Daichi’s going to die on the spot.” 

Asahi takes a few more moments to admire themself. 

“Can I play with your hair?” Suga asks. “We could watch some TV and I could put in a crown braid. Maybe leave it half up? That would look nice, I think.” 

Asahi smiles. “You only ever have to ask.” 

They walk into the living room, where Suga settles down on the couch and Asahi slots themself between their legs. Suga puts on a Disney movie, which Asahi doesn’t really pay attention to, instead blissing out on Suga’s fingers carding through their hair. 

About halfway through the movie, there’s the turn of a key in the lock. 

“Quick, go get in the bedroom,” Suga says. 

Asahi looks at them questioningly. 

“I want to surprise him,” Suga says. “Now go!” They stand and pull Asahi towards the bedroom. After Suga closes the door behind them, Asahi stands at the door and listens. 

“Daichi!” Suga exclaims, the movie still running in the background. 

“Koushi!” 

There’s a pause in the dialogue, where presumably the two of them are kissing hello. 

“I have a surprise for you,” Suga says, a familiar edge of mischief in their voice. 

“Wait,” Daichi says. “Where’s Asahi? Shouldn’t he be home?” 

“Wait and see,” Suga singsongs. 

Asahi steps away from the door and stands awkwardly in the middle of the room. 

“Seriously, Koushi,” Daichi says as footsteps approach the door. “What’s this all about?” he asks as Koushi turns the doorknob. 

“This,” Suga says, opening the door and gesturing towards Asahi. 

Daichi almost drops his bookbag. 

“Holy _shit.”_

Panic starts to well up in Asahi’s chest. 

“Is that a good holy shit or a bad h—” And then suddenly their arms are full of Daichi, who tackles them down to the bed. 

“Incredible,” Daichi says, pressing kiss after kiss to their lips, their cheeks, their eyelids. “You look beautiful.” 

Asahi can feel themself blush. “Much as I’d like to continue down this road,” they say once Daichi pulls back long enough to give them a breath, “I need to talk to you about some stuff.” 

Daichi pulls back and sits down on the bed, pulling Asahi’s head into his lap. “What’s going on, baby?” 

Asahi takes a deep breath and looks to Suga for reassurance. Suga smiles and nods, and Asahi speaks all in one breath. “I’m not exactly a boy,” they say. “I’m not really…an anything.” 

“Baby, I don’t care what you are. I love you.” Daichi leans down to kiss them. “You look so comfortable like this. You really look like yourself.” 

“I’m not always going to dress up,” Asahi says. “Half the time I’m just going to wear my regular stuff. But…I like to feel pretty sometimes. I might start wearing skirts?” 

“You’re going to kill me,” Daichi said. 

Suga grins. “I said you’d say that.” 

“We get it,” Daichi says. “You’re always right, I know.” 

“I want to start going by they,” Asahi says. “I don’t entirely mind boyfriend, especially as a collective noun? But partner is nice. Really nice.” 

“My partner!” Daichi crows. “They’re beautiful!” 

Asahi buries their face in Daichi’s lap, feeling their cheeks flame. 

Suga climbs onto the bed and sits down next to Daichi, wrapping an arm around him and leaning their head on his shoulder. 

“Looks like you’re the only cis one in this relationship,” Suga says. 

Daichi nods stoically. “I shall bear the burden of being the boring one.” 

“You can’t tease yourself!” Suga squawks. “That’s my job!” 

Asahi rolls over and laughs, watching their partners bicker. 

Everything is going to be okay. 


End file.
